


As I Look Upon Your Face

by soonhan



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Fluff, M/M, Marriage, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 06:51:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15880785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soonhan/pseuds/soonhan
Summary: A wedding day is just twenty four hours that eventually end. For Seokmin, that's all his nerves are waiting for. But for his heart, this is the day he's been waiting for since the beginning.





	As I Look Upon Your Face

Inhale. The room spins around Seokmin, a whirlwind of commotion and busy bodies, and at the center of the storm he stands— gathering his breath, his thoughts, his feelings. Exhale. The world stops, he catches his eye in the mirror, he looks himself over. He thinks he looks pretty handsome. A smile makes the hard line of his mouth softer. He has nothing to be afraid of, since this was what things were leading up to anyway. He had days, weeks— years, he thinks, he should have known since the beginning— to plan for today. That it should come as a surprise is silly, to get too caught up in worry is useless. He knew it would happen, he asked for it, he said yes to it.

“There’s the smile I was missing,” Jeonghan says, watching him from beside the mirror. He seems nervous, maybe moreso than Seokmin. He laughs— no, there’s no way that’s possible. Jeonghan has a crumpled piece of paper in his hand, squeezing and relaxing his fingers around it, only deepening the creases. His usual, crooked smile holds a tense thread to it, strung up too tightly.

“I should say the same,” Seokmin responds, nodding his head.

“You look more wound up than the night we met.” Jeonghan spares a glance to the paper he’s mercilessly tormented, and attempts to smooth it out so he can fold it, tucking it away in the breast pocket of his jacket. 

“I didn’t know what to make of you,” he laughs, the thread holding his smile loosening. “You’ve always been quite the character.” It’s an understatement, and Seokmin’s heard a lot worse, but from Jeonghan he knows there’s a sincere love behind everything he says. It’s one of his best qualities. And why he knows Jeonghan will do just fine tonight, even if he stumbles a bit along the way.

“Where’d he go off to?” Seokmin asks, stepping closer to the mirror, and Jeonghan, to adjust his bowtie. He doesn’t even have to mention a name for them to know who he means, and Jeonghan’s smile warms up even more. A familiar, devilish expression spreads across his face, reminding Seokmin of the boy of seventeen he used to be, back when he had a lot of bad ideas and too many people to enable him.

“Fussing with him, I’m sure,” Jeonghan fires back, and Seokmin feels the room start to spin again. Luckily, Jeonghan keeps it from twirling back into a maelstrom. “We both want to make sure things go smoothly today. You two are ready for this, now all the day needs is to be perfect.”

Seokmin is thankful, but the undermining thought of what if takes over. Perfection is what they wanted, what he deserved, but if it wasn’t attainable what would it mean for them? The idea that it could shape their future scared him, and became too big all at the same time. His mind couldn’t shake it.

“I can see you thinking, so stop it.” Again, Jeonghan, always the ground he could land on. His eyes flicker away from the mirror, stop on Jeonghan’s eyes. He can see the calm there, and he lets it take over. His hands stop fiddling with the bowtie he’s over-adjusted.

Jeonghan walks forward, tugs it first one way, then another, then drops his hands to hold Seokmin’s to his chest.

“You’re ready.” Seokmin nods. He knows, but it’s nice to hear it again. It reminds him that he’s not flying ahead without knowing where he’s going, but that he's where he’s supposed to be. Jeonghan’s eyes shine, curving pleasantly. Seokmin swears he almost sees them start to water. “I just never thought you’d be the one to get here before me.”

Seokmin laughs, really laughs, and it feels good. It makes him feel like himself. Jeonghan always had a way of doing that— it’s probably why he chose him as his best man. He pats the left side of Jeonghan’s chest, over his heart, over his speech that Jeonghan had spent so many nights working and re-working and still felt was inadequate.

“Y’know, he probably feels the same way.” The reminder makes Jeonghan go red, whether from shame or fantasy Seokmin isn’t entirely sure. The he they're talking about pops his head through the door a moment later, as if summoned, his cheeks rosy and energy high. His eyes lock on Jeonghan, and his smile says more than words ever could.

“I have to steal the best man away for a second,” he says, bowing deeply. Jeonghan laughs, and he doesn’t cover his mouth anymore— Seokmin is reminded of just how far they’ve come. It pulls at his heartstrings and makes him feel proud, even over something so small. It’s the little things, after all.

“You’ve already stolen so much of him, Soonyoung,” Seokmin sighs, feigning despair. “How much until you’re satisfied?”

Soonyoung beams, sweeps into the room and pulls Jeonghan into his arms, bringing him low into a dip. Jeonghan throws an arm over his forehead, and suddenly the three of them are back in their tiny, makeshift theatre, playing make-believe for their audience of none.

“Until he gives himself over completely,” Soonyoung vows, deepening his voice to the lowest register he can manage. It’s enough to ruin Jeonghan’s composure, who breaks into hysterical laughter and tries to cover his burning cheeks.

“Can the best men leave before they start re-enacting the entirety of The Phantom of the Opera?” Jihoon asks, pushing the pair of them aside to affix a lovingly-crafted boutonniere to the lapel of Seokmin’s jacket. They exit in a flurry, their laughter tinkling behind them until Seokmin can’t hear them anymore.

“They’re obnoxious,” Jihoon huffs. His fingers work carefully, making sure not to jab Seokmin with the sharp end.

“But you love them,” Seokmin murmurs. Jihoon groans, avoiding Seokmin’s knowing stare. But he can’t pretend he hasn’t heard him forever, and Seokmin counts that for something.

“Of course I do,” he says, fitting the needle into its closure. He lifts his eyes to Seokmin’s and a small smile spreads across his face. “That doesn’t mean I don’t think they’re annoying, though.”

“We’ve got to get to the chapel soon!” Bustle begins again, jumpstarted by a bundle of nerves Seokmin never sees coming. Seungcheol grabs him by the arms, thinks better of it and smoothes Seokmin’s sleeves down, before urging him by the small of his back towards the door.

“Wait!” Seokmin shouts. Seungcheol turns his wild eyes to him, ready for catastrophe, or worse. Seokmin smiles, in an effort to ease his worries, and points downward.

“I need shoes first.”

Seungcheol blinks, and for a second Seokmin thinks he’s going to faint.

“Right,” he swallows, letting Seokmin bend down to slip them on. His toe starts to tap, and Seokmin is eye level with it at the moment. He doesn’t want Seungcheol’s anxiousness get to him, but it’s a little hard not to when he’s eye-to-eye with impatience. He knows Seungcheol isn’t doing it on purpose. “We’re a little behind schedule.”

A little behind schedule is, to Seungcheol, a minute off. Seokmin knows. He’s had his eye on his watch the entire day. He straightens up and Seungcheol resumes his urgency, all but dragging Seokmin to his car. Several others pile in the backseat, and Seokmin counts all his groomsmen, minus a best man.

The chapel is gorgeous, but of course he’d expect nothing less considering his fiance picked it out. The front is overflowing with flowers, and if Seokmin didn’t know any better he’d say the building was blooming itself. He plucks a petal on his way in, rubbing it between his thumb and index. He has no idea what they symbolize, but that doesn’t matter to him. Their beauty speaks enough of his love, each one hand-picked for the occasion. That’s enough for him.

People are filling the venue, stopping to touch his arm and offer congratulations, wish him a happy life, and his ears sing with the joy he receives from them. It’s like the whole chapel is resonating in it, echoing through the floor and the rafters, making the whole place glow in a light more than holy.

He’s instructed to stand at the end of the aisle, and his eyes lock with the entrance, holding his breath. His hands fiddle with the plastic wrapping of his bouquet— not a necessary requirement for their betrothal, but one they insisted upon nonetheless. A hush falls over the assembly before him, like the calm before a storm, only there’s no terror to follow.

The doors crack open as the first notes of piano begin to play, something Jihoon composed for them of course, and they swing wide to reveal his fiance— soon to be husband—, waiting at the other end of what feels like miles of unnecessary carpeting. He wants to run to him, but he keeps his feet stuck where he stands. He’s been patient for so long, he can wait just a little longer.

As beautiful as the song is he’s glad to hear it end, because in the resonating sound of its final measure his groom stands before him, eyes bright and dewy. There’s no chance either of them are going to end the day without shedding a tear, especially when Seokmin can already feel one slipping down his cheek.

“Boo Seungkwan,” he whispers, cupping his face with all the tenderness of the years they’ve spent together. He sees their youth, the days before he figured out just what those butterflies in his stomach meant, the days he felt so sick with love he wanted to scream it into the sky and parts beyond. The quiet, unhurried moments, where he’d discovered more about Seungkwan than he’d ever hoped to ask for. And the fire, that burned brighter the longer they fanned it. “You’re just as beautiful as the day I met you.”

“Save that for when we go grey,” Seungkwan replies, covering Seokmin’s hand with his own. The ring that Seokmin saved more than a few paycheques on affording gleams on his finger, and Seokmin can’t wait to add another. “Let’s just get this over with so I can finally kiss you.”

Seokmin threads their fingers together and lets their hands fall between them, resting his forehead against Seungkwan’s. He can’t stop his tears anymore.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

\---

Later that night, Soonyoung catches the bouquet at the reception, but Seokmin is too busy staring at his husband to notice. 

**Author's Note:**

> im @s00nhan on twitter :D


End file.
